<blockquote>John blinked at the scrap of paper. It was smudged with dirt from rolling into the cell at absurd speeds, pushed round the edge of the wall by a rare flash of pale scientist hand. The weight had come from a little cylindrical bottle of ink, around which Rodney had carefully fixed the note using a complicated series of tears and folds. John had to admit it was silly to be sitting not ten feet from each other (more like ten inches, if he and Rodney were both to sit against the separating wall, which thought really shouldn't be exciting, but there you were) and not communicating, but they couldn't project their voices enough to reach clearly around the wall without attracting the attention of all the surrounding prisoners and some frankly fairly diligent guards. Still, there some something distinctly silly about passing notes.</blockquote>
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